detectives and consultants
by breathing is over-rated
Summary: Mycroft calls in a CBI team and his brother to solve a case. I fail a summaries, sorry people
1. Chapter 1

Sherlock/ mentalist crossover

1

221b Baker Street had been quiet all month, John mused with a slight grimace. A puff of smoke billowed from the kitchen setting off the smoke alarm. By quiet, he meant that there had been no new cases to occupy his flatmate mind and the flat had been paying the consequences for the past two and a half weeks. The man in question wandered out of the kitchen with what looked like the remains of a melted jar.

'John' the doctor didn't look at him, instead he carried on reading the paper.

'yes Sherlock?' his tone made it clear he was annoyed, Sherlock knew this but he carried on anyway.

'we're out of milk' John sighed and put down the paper. He glared at the man and got up, slipping into a jacket. He'd learnt the hard way that a milk deprived Sherlock Holmes was by far the worse thing that he had ever had the misfortune to face.

'I don't see why you can't go out and fetch it yourself. This must be the forth time I have gone into that bloody Tesco's this week' he wrenched the door open to find Mycroft standing politely on the doorstep. His train of thought cart wheeled has he tried to remember what he was supposed to be doing. Mycroft took this as an invitation and walked past the still frozen doctor. Sherlock poked his head round the kitchen door and proceeded to scowl at the elder Holmes. Mycroft ignored him and began to speak

'Sherlock, I have a case of the utmost importance-'

'not interested' came a surly remark that cut the elder off. He hesitated then continued

' to be quiet honest, dear brother, I do not care if you are interested or not. The government requires the best and so you will work this case whether you want to or not' the detective turned to John for support and received none. His face fell. Being a 'minor' role in the government, Sherlock knew his brother had the power to force his compliance and since his doctor seemed to be annoyed with him he wouldn't help him much either. His shoulders sagged slightly has he accepted.

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><p>The MI6 headquarters was one building John would have been happy not to see the inside of. Mycroft lead the doctor and Sherlock through the building to his office. Alice, as she was being called today, opened the door and stepped aside. The office was spacious but Sherlocks' eyes focused on the five people already in the room.<p>

'Sherlock, John, meet the CBI's top team.' the detective scoffed at the same time as a mousy haired man in the team

'Sherlock!' john hissed at the same time a woman with dark hair said 'Jane' in the same annoyed tone. They looked at each other apologetically. Mycroft sighed

'well, this has clearly got off to a great start.' he walked over to the small group and gestured to one of the women. 'this is Teresa Lisbon and her team-' he then proceeded to point out Kimball Cho, Grace Van-pelt, Wayne Rigsby and finally Patrick Jane. He then introduced John and Sherlock to the CBI team. Sherlock, whose was now thoroughly bored, said in an irritated voice.

'ok, so you've got your little super team together now can we just get on with it.' John groaned. This was going to be a trial, he just knew it.


	2. Chapter 2

2

Lisbon had got the order from Hightower when she entered her office. The only information she had been given was that the whole team was required to go to London on a flight that day for a minimum of a week. When she tried to get out of it she was told that the whole team would make that flight or else. She didn't even know who she was going to be working for. Sighing, Lisbon went to tell her team. She knew that one person would definatly cause trouble in any way he could.

Patrick was lying on the couch when Lisbon walked in. 'not interested' he called to her when the door closed. She stood and stared at him. 'I don't care if you're interested or not.' the rest of the team looked at them, recently the consultant had been getting more and more annoying. It did make for a laugh from time to time but the look on the bosses face showed that she really didn't want to deal with his antics today. 'what were you about to say, Lisbon?' Cho asked. She turned to the rest of the team.

'we've all been called on to go to London. I have no idea who by or why but we have. Our flight leads tonight and the whole team is 'required' that includes you, Jane' she said, turning back to shoot an unimpressed look at the man in question. He put his hands up in surrender 'you don't have to worry about me Lisbon, I'd much rather go of my own accord than be captured by some British secret agent squad' Rigsby raised and eyebrow and was about to question but Lisbon beat him to it. 'what on earth are you talking about, Jane. You better tell me what you know or so help me-'

'I don't know anything about it. I'm just guessing.' he paused and looked at the team who gave a silent demand for him to continue. 'well, Hightower wouldn't send us if there was no other way around it. We're going to London which is where the headquarters for the British military intelligence is based and you quoted that we were required. We weren't given a choice in the matter so someone very important. Someone very important who might just be in control of a very large organisation which as the skill and equipment to abduct people without drawing attention to themselves. I don't know about the rest of you but I'm not taking any chances' the room was filled with shocked faces. Cho managed to maintain his steady expression but his mind whirred. _Surely no one would have that kind of power. They couldn't have._ but the feeling in his gut told him the exact opposite. He stood up 'I'm going to start packing then' he turned and left the building quickly followed by the other four, the last being Patrick. The consultant smirked to himself. He'd never been to England before.

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><p>Lisbon hoped that she never had to sit in a plane with that man ever again. The flight had started out ok but less than an hour in Patrick was up to his old tricks. The flight attendants were refusing to serve him after he had found something about each one of them to put out in the open. The whole team were in First class, something that most of them had never done before, yet Lisbon couldn't relax. She found herself going back to what Jane had said about the person they might be working for. She liked to think that the team kept no secrets, she knew it was an absolute lie especially were Jane was concerned, but they at least kept the rest informed with the important things. Mostly. The thought that her team were flying to England to work for a person or persons unknown was unnerving. The fact that they were summoned for in the way that someone would call a dog was just disturbing. But they didn't really have a choice in the matter, if the consultant was right anyway, so she decided she might as well stop worrying about it. Her train of thought was broken by yet another sound of commotion coming from the consultants area. She groaned and got up to apologise for what ever it was that he had done this time. Sometimes she just didn't know why she bothered.<p> 


	3. Chapter 3

3

The seven people walked out of the office, Lisbons' team first followed by John who dragged his sulking detective behind him. _I'll have to stop off and buy some milk because he is getting ridiculous_. As soon as the thought crossed Johns mind, Sherlock seemed to pick up slightly. The doctor narrowed his eyes but said nothing, he was still thrilled when Sherlock did his mind reading thing (sorry deductions) just so long as long as it wasn't on him. John excused himself from the group when they got to Tesco's, the bright eyed consultant seemed to smirk at this. To his surprise the CBI's boss decided they should all wait. John looked at Sherlock, the man would never agree to go into the shop with him but the doctor really didn't want to leave him alone with the five, it would make everything easier if they all got along. Instead, he gave Sherlock one of his best military glances. The detective stiffed subconsciously when he saw it and John's mouth twitched. He would certainly think twice now before he said anything insulting to anyone. The doctor turned and walked into the store, his mouth spreading into a smile.

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><p>Lisbon watched 'Doctor John Watson', as he had been called, walk into the store. The other man had stayed with them. He was eerily silent as his eyes quickly searched each person. He spent silently longer on Jane but quickly turned his attention, looking thoroughly bored. The silence was eating her alive so in the end she spoke up.<p>

'so, what do you do then, Sherlock?' she asked. He scowled slightly at her then replied,

'I'm a consulting detective, the only one in the world.' then he turned away again. The man clearly didn't want to talk, why she didn't know. She was only trying to be polite. The next five minutes were torture as the six stood in silence waiting for the doctor. The consulting detectives face lit up when he saw John but pulled his emotionless expression back in place before the man could see it, the corner of Lisbon's mouth edged upward then she saw her own consultant grinning like a fool. If only he was slightly closer she would have hit him but she settled for scowling. He saw her and quickly his grin disappeared but his eyes still gleamed, she silently vowed to get the doctor to show her how to control someone with a glance as she turned away.

John had wanted to get a few litres of milk but decided that it would be slightly weird to see and so settle for two pints. That amount should at least hold off Sherlock until he could get more. He handed the bottle to the detective and turned to the team, smiling. They had been given the address to a hotel where the CBI team would be staying and had all be asked to go there to get the brief. John noticed that the team, especially the red haired woman, had given him confused looks as he walked past but he ignored them, instead leading the way to the steps of the hotel and holding the door for everyone. It was a fairly expensive looking hotel with red carpet leading up a grand staircase. There was an elevator on either side of the steps and many corridors leading off from the foyer. John was taking in the rooms décor when he heard a slight commotion from the check in desk. He turned to find a very red receptionist and a very bored/irritated looking Sherlock. He marched over to the detective and folded his arms. 'what the hell have you done now, Sherlock?' he asked. The man sniffed slightly and said

'she started it and you only forbade me from saying my deductions on that team we've been shackled with. Therefore I don't see a problem with acting in my usual fashion with everyone else.' he looked at the doctor and tried to hold his own but failed and hung his head slightly, lowering his eyes. A quite snigger whipped Johns head round as he cast his glare on the CBIs consultant who stopped immediately and also looked away. The rest of the team looked stunned and John guessed that they had as much trouble with their consultant as he did with his own. The doctor took the room keys and lead the way up the stairs.

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><p>The rooms, more like apartments, were all large and appeared to be very expensive. On the table of the middle room had a folder placed squarely on it. Sherlock smiled as he picked it up, flicking through the various papers then dropped it back on the table and turned to John with renewed fire in his eyes. John's own eyes were wary for a moment but then excitement quickly took over. Lisbon picked up the folder, slightly annoyed that she hadn't been the first to read the case files. She heard Jane stifle a laugh, when she turned to him he said 'oh dear, having control issues, Lisbon?' she scowled at him and turned her attention back to the pieces of paper in her hands. Her eyes flicked over the targets name and she froze.<p> 


	4. Chapter 4

4

'ah, I had wondered why we had being saddled with your team' John rolled his eyes, Sherlock couldn't go two sentences with someone without somehow insulting them. Lisbon jumped slightly and looked up, 'what?' Sherlock smiled the tight lipped smile he used when trying to explain things to a small child.

'you are here because your target is someone that has eluded your grasp and escaped to London.' he turned to John 'I thought that only the British police force were idiots. Clearly, I was mistaken'

'Sherlock!' the man winced slightly, even he couldn't stand the overwhelming force that was Soldier John. He quietly mumbled something about what John thought of his talent and took back the folder.

'so far, five bodies found. All were killed on average a week apart and all had connections to the US. The man that we are looking for is-'

'Red John' Patrick said, cutting off the detective. He found it funny how the man could be controlled by just a glare, though he silently hoped that he didn't get on the wrong side of the soldier boy.

'so, how much trouble have you had with this Red John?' the doctor said, speaking up before the detective could say something about being interrupted.

'they have been chasing him for years by the look of it.' Sherlock said. 'oh, and he killed _Jane's_ wife and child so he wants revenge' Patrick's eyes practically glowed with rage at the indignation. Sherlocks' smirk was boardering evil. John had had enough. He grabbed the taller mans arm and dragged him to the door, making sure to push him out of the door first. He called over his shoulder

'you a lot go ahead and start reading the rest of the file. We'll be back in a minute' then the door closed behind him.

* * *

><p>Cho had seen many arguments, near accidents and close calls that's fault lied squarely at Jane's feet. He also saw that if he and the consulting detective kept jibbing each other at the rate they're going, this make-shift team might just have two murderers to be dealing with. Though, he had the feeling that it would be two Johns they would be after. The man definitely had military training and he had various spaces where a gun could be hidden, old habits die hard as they say. Cho turned his attention back to their own problematic person, who was currently having a yelling war with Lisbon<p>

'I didn't do anything to the freak and he goes and says that!'

'I'm just saying, don't even think about winding him up Jane, I'm serious. Any of your tricks while we're here and I swear to God I'll have you locked up for the duration'

'I'm sure you would love that but they haven't locked him up yet, have they? And he is quiet clearly unhinged. What about that army medic of his?' Lisbon's trail of thought halted.

'what army medic?'

'that guy, John'

'Jane, he's a doctor.'

'yes, but he was an army medic. He was probably invalided home. He got shot in the shoulder by the look of it. And there's something up with his leg' Lisbon stared, _there was no way that a guy who wore jumpers like that could possi- _her mind went back to every time the man in question had walked or talked. _That voice had so much command in it. His patience was astounding. But spending time in the army? And getting shot. No, he couldn't possibly have done_

'yes, he did' a baritone voice said as he glided pasted her. Lisbon jumped out of her thoughts, she hadn't noticed the two walk back into the room.

'how did you know what I was thinking?' the man just smiled, not a happy smile- one which held her captive like a deer caught in headlights and sent waves of shivers rolling down her spine. John looked at her

'don't worry about it, he does that to everyone.'

'well, if everyone wasn't so predictable I wouldn't be able to' Sherlock was acting like a child again but it was better than what he was doing before.


	5. Chapter 5

5

The team had set to work with their plans without further incident. John had always made sure he sat between the two consultants, neither of them questioned his resolve. Instead choosing to shoot glares at each other whenever they got the chance, or whenever they thought John wouldn't notice. John did notice and he was quickly losing his tether with the both of them. He had no problem admonishing his detective but he didn't want to appear too over bearing and controlling so he had left the CBI to deal with their consultant. That would change very quickly if the two carried on in the fashion they were. Sherlock had eventually seen how far he had driven his doctor and stopped. Patrick, however, clearly wasn't aware of just what the man was capable of as he carried on trying to bait the detective. John decided that people were probably allowed to act this way over the pond but that didn't mean he had to put up with it while they were in London.

As night neared, Sherlock and John prepared to go back to their flat while the CBI team decided who would sleep in which room. The detective had already left to hail a cab and John was stepping through the door when Lisbon called him to wait. He turned and smiled.

'if you can sort Jane out, do it. I don't care how.' she knew she could have worded that better but she didn't care. It got her point across. The doctor, for his part, continued his smile but his eyes flashed with something Lisbon didn't recognise. Then the blonde turned and left the hotel. Lisbon went back to the others to collect her things and move into the room with Van Pelt. Something in the doctors look set shivers through her every time she remembered it. She could help thinking _what sort of hell have I let loose?_

* * *

><p>For the first time ever, Sherlock held the cab to wait for John. The surprised look on his doctors face told the detective that he was thinking the same thing. They sat in silence for the ten minutes it took, the doctor taking to watching the lights of London whiz past the window. When they got out Sherlock paid, another thing that was unheard of in John's world, then they entered the flat. Once the door closed the detective turned to the blonde<p>

'what did Lisbon say that made you so happy?' the question seemingly came from nowhere and threw the doctor off balance.

'what?'

'what did Lisbon say to you just before we left' Johns mind finally caught up with him.

'oh. She asked me if I could straighten out their consultant a bit' the detective smirked. 'what's so funny?' the doctor asked. Sherlock reigned in his expression

'nothing' then he turned and took out his violin. For reasons unknown, the detective decided to actually play the instrument properly. The music sweetly stretched into every corner of the flat and appeared to weave round all the objects in its path, wrapping everything in a music embrace. The doctor went to the kitchen, the kettle was calling him again, it had been a long day. Suddenly John felt his eyelids grow heavier. He decided that a cup of tea wasn't a good idea. Going straight to bed, however; that sound perfect.

'night Sherlock' he said drearily as he made his way to his room. It came out 'nigh Sh-lock' it seemed his mouth didn't want to work anymore, that was ok. He didn't need it. Something in the back of his mind screamed at him something about violins and detectives but he wasn't really listening, he didn't like people screaming at him. His mind felt muddled but the peacefulness of it was a nice feeling. The doctor practically fell on the bed and was too tired to moved so he drifted off asleep how he had landed.

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><p><strong>AN<strong>- sorry about not updating sooner

to anyone who actually reads this please review! the good and the bad. I'll love you all forever XD


	6. Chapter 6

6

John woke with a start. He was lying on his side with the soft duvet covering him. The fog in his mind cleared eventually and when it did he sat up and yelled for the detective. The was no answer. John narrowed his eyes and got out of bed, noticing that he was now in his pyjamas. The doctor changed quickly and yanked the door open, storming into the living room. Sherlock lay sleeping on the sofa, his feet hanging off the end. John watched him for a moment.

'I know you're not asleep, Sherlock. Now you'd better get up and give me a good explanation about what the hell happened last night, and if you dare say _it was an experiment_ I swear I will kill you.' Sherlock's eyes flicked open. He stayed where he lay and looked up at man towering above him. The doctors eyes were volcanoes that burned with rage. The detective quietly wondered if he'd overstepped the mark by putting the man to bed properly. 'I'm waiting Sherlock. Tell. Me. Now.' Sherlock sighed

'you were tired and I knew you wouldn't sleep last night so I helped.' John walked to the centre of the sofa and tipped it so that Sherlock fell onto the floor with a thump. Without leaving time for the detective to complain, John walked round the sofa, after setting it back on the floor, and loomed over the lanky man now sprawled on the fall.

'I wanted to see if I could use music to affect how a persons brain processes things. You were tired so I wanted to see if I could make you decide to go to sleep.' the detective paused for a moment then said in a small voice 'well, it was a success' John closed his eyes and counted slowly to twenty. When he opened his eyes, the doctor walked past the detective to the kitchen. As soon as his back turned, he heard Sherlock get off the floor. _wow, I must have really scared him this time_ usually the detective shrugged off anything offensive with a sarky remark. He knew he shouldn't, but the voice in the back of his head brimmed with pride and the sense of power. John shivered slightly and squashed the voice down, he really didn't need to get out of control today.

John walked back into the living room with two cups of tea, he had decided to forgo toast all together in favour of making up for the way he had acted earlier. Or at least try to anyway. John sat on the sofa next to the detective. The other man refused to look at him. John passed him the cup of tea. Sherlock took it without a word.

'Sherlock?' no answer. John shuffled closer 'Sherlock?' still no answer. John decided that he would get the detective to listen to him apologise. He drew himself right up close to the detective. The other man froze, his eyes flicked to the doctor. As soon as he saw he had the detectives attention he pulled away 'right, now then. I'm sorry for this morning. I over reacted. I did need the sleep, I just wish you wouldn't do experiments on me. Especially without my permission. I wasn't thinking and I'm sorry I went to far. I'm also sorry for what I did just now but I know that it's the only way to get your attention short of putting a gun to your head.' Sherlock stared at him in silence for a few moments before finally replying

'that has to be the longest sorry speech I have ever heard' he paused then added, cringing slightly 'I forgive you. Please, don't make me go through that again' John laughed and drained his cup.

'come on. We've got a psychopathic serial killer to catch' he said with a smile as he grabbed the nearest jumper.

* * *

><p>The pair walked into the hotel half an hour later. Van Pelt met them at the door and walked up the stairs with them. John hadn't really noticed her before but she had a very pretty face, the type that could light up a room when she smiled.<p>

'don't bother' Sherlock murmured 'she's engaged. I don't want the FBI knocking on our door, thank you' John ignored the comment. He guessed he probably deserved it. After a few moments Van Pelt turned to John.

'ok, listen. None of us wanted to come here in the first place. I have a million things I could be doing right now. Patrick is driving us all insane and I swear that if I have to spend one more night in the room next to him I'm going to shoot something.' John blinked.

'um.. ok?' the woman smiled.

'thanks, Lisbon told me she'd asked you yesterday but she didn't know if you actually would help. I just thought I'd ask myself. Oh, and warn you that the whole team are fed up with our _consultant_ and will be prone to snapping at any time.' Sherlock smirked

'well John, it looks like you'll be in good company if you feel like letting your feelings out again.' the doctor glared at the detective, who shut up immediately. They came to the door. Just as they were about to open it they heard yelling from inside. Sherlock grinned to himself and pushed past John to go inside. _the man has no sense of privacy…or patience._ John thought as he followed the detective into the hotel room.

Patrick lay on the sofa that was against one of the walls. Lisbon had stopped what ever she had been yelling the moment she heard the door open. Her dark hair flicked round as she turned her head to the people walking in.

'good morning' she said, her voice suddenly softer. Patrick grinned, knowing that he had gotten off the lecture which would have taken at least another five minutes of his life. John noticed the expression, it was one he often saw on Sherlock's face when the brother got them out of some sort of mess with the Yard. The doctors face set slightly harder than usual, he wasn't going to allow any messing round today, not matter who was the instigator. In his peripheral vision, John saw his detective stiffen his subconsciously stiffen his spine. _serves him right for doing his little mind reading trick_ the doctor thought as he turned to Lisbon

'good morning to you to. Shall we get started?' he went and sat down on the sofa opposite Jane, Sherlock sat next to him. The file was opened and its contents were spread out on the large coffee table in front of the sofas. John slipped of the sofa to sit on the floor, closer to the file. Lisbon sat on the carpet next to him, leaving room for the lanky detective to see the various papers from where he sat. the only one who didn't pay any attention to what the rest were doing was Patrick, who seemed quite content to sleep. Plans and ideas were traded about for an hour or so before the final plan of action was written up. Sherlock's phone cut through the lull. He answered, his face suddenly brighter. Seeing this, John stood up and fetched his Jacket. Sherlock put his mobile away.

'ok, what is it this time?' the doctor asked.

' they've found another body. Same smiley face. From what I've been told, the victims pretty torn up. Come on John' the detectives face looked like a child who had gotten everything he wanted for Christmas, the CBI team couldn't help but silently wonder how the doctor put up with the him. Lisbon sent Van Pelt and Rigsby chasing after the two. Patrick was well and truly asleep, or well and truly feigning sleep. She would finish their little chat when she could be sure that no one would burst in on them. Instead, she sat once again in front of the file and help Cho to complete the final write up of their plan.

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><p><strong>AN- <strong>woo! another chapter finsihed, this doesn't appear to be going anywhere yet, but we're getting there!


	7. Chapter 7

**AN-** sorry for the long wait

still don't own etc. etc.

enjoy :)

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><p><span>7<span>

'_Pretty torn up' _was probably the worst understatement that Rigsby had ever encountered. He looked at the body, if it could be called that anymore. Sherlock had waltzed into the room like he owned the place and set to work making quick fire deductions. The various officials all seemed to stare in awe but they kept their distance. Van Pelt had walked in, trying to keep a level head. She knew it was going to be bad, she just didn't know how bad. The image that waited for made her vision blur. John, for his part, didn't seem fazed in the slightest by the mangled corpse in front of him, taking to kneeling beside the unfortunate victim and making his prognosis on the various weapons and how they might have been wielded. Van Pelt remembered with a flood of understanding that Patrick had said he was an ex army medic. He'd probably seen so much worse. On the wall above the corpse the bloody smile stared down over the group. She brought her thoughts quickly off the subject when her subconscious dragged up images of corpses she'd much rather forget.

'Are you two ok?' John asked, clearly in 'doctor' mode. His eyes were brimming with concern. Van Pelt pulled a tight lipped smile and nodded once. She wasn't going to leave because of a bit of blood. At least, that's what she tried to convince herself. They had been gone from the hotel for over two hours now, Van Pelt wondered how Lisbon was coping. She didn't know were she'd rather be; in a room with a bloody corpse or in a room with their consultant. To much time in either of them would be bound to send her insane. Sherlock suddenly looked up and ran over to the blonde.

'John, what do you notice about this building?' The doctor tilted his head to make his eyes meet with the detective.

'I don't know'

'Come on, think.' John looked at the floor then cast his eyes round the room. He stood up and checked the door and all the windows. He then made his way back to Sherlock

'There wasn't a break in' he said

'And?' Sherlock asked, urging him to continue. John thought for a moment. His eyes flicked up, they were dead inside as the realisation hit him.

'What?' Rigsby asked, not getting where the strange couple were going. John answered,

'This is a government building, it's one of the most protected rooms in London. It hasn't been broken into and the only other way is with a key.' He then turned to Sherlock who was now by the body. The tall male slid a gloved hand under the body and produced a small white business card. He turned it over to reveal a single small, printed letter,

**M**

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><p>Cho sat looking through the files, desperately trying to block out the other two people in the room. Jane's snide remarks had sky rocketed since that doctor had left. It wasn't usual for the man to be so frontal with is statements, Cho decided that it was probably because he was getting in as many insulting remarks as he could before the blond got back to the flat. Lisbon was at her wits end with him, the yelling had been a continuous stream for the past half hour. Though, he guessed he had been lucky that they had managed to get peace for the couple of hours they had. He sighed inwardly and tuned out all noise from the flat.<p>

Patrick did his best to close his ears to the screeching that was being directed at him. _Man, that woman has a set of lungs on her_. He doubted that she had took a breath for a few minutes. _No, wait, she took a breath there_.

'Jane, are you even listening to me?' Lisbon asked, anger clear in her voice

'Hmm, sorry, what? I wasn't listening.' It was cruel and she was going to give him hell of it but Lisbon had lined herself up for that one. The woman narrowed her eyes as her anger flared

'Jane, I swear-' The door opened and cut her off again. In walked the blonde who seemed to notice her body language immediately and subconsciously changed into a soldier stance. He was followed through the doorway by the rest of the team. Sherlock looked at Cho, choosing to block out the other consultant completely.

'we may have a problem'


	8. Chapter 8

8

_Well, that's just great_ Lisbon thought as she heard the tales of the consulting criminal _now we don't only have a serial killer to be looking for but we find that he's teamed up with the most powerful villain the world has ever known. _John looked at her sympathetically, having been on the receiving end of what the mad bomber could do he knew what was going through the dark haired woman's mind. Sherlock had already started the load down of who Moriarty was, the crimes they knew he had committed, they way he worked, what he was prepared to do to get what he wanted. The CBI team went through the shock in their own ways; Cho let nothing show on his face but inside his mind was whirring trying to comprehend the scale of the information, Lisbon's face clearly showed all the felt and for the first in a long time she felt slightly overwhelmed, Rigsby, well, he was more interested in making sure Grace was ok, she was holding up just fine but he wanted to make sure. Jane, for his part, only stared at the other consultant. It was as though he had suddenly realised they weren't so different after all and then burned that thought from his mind, forbidding it to ever return. These things, John knew. He could read a face quite easily, you had to if you lived with Sherlock, what he didn't know is what the thoughts were behind the face, Sherlock always seemed to be able to bore into the very souls of those around him. John didn't entirely believe he wanted to know that much about a person.

No matter how long the group thought over it, they couldn't seem to form a plan which was able to account for both villains. When they all decided to call it a night, the moon was visible through the smoggy London clouds. John and Sherlock parted ways outside the hotel, he doctor wanted to go to Sarah's house for the night and this did seem like the perfect opportunity. They arranged to meet up back at the hotel the following morning then parted ways.

Sherlock walked into a mass, strangely organised, panic. The hotel, for all intents and purposes, was calm and quite tranquil but the CBI rooms were being searched at lightening rate. The detective noticed immediately that they were one member down.

'Cho,' He called, 'Where's Lisbon?' The look that was gave in reply told him all he needed to know. He turned to the others who were frantically looking everywhere for a clue, expect Jane who was happy to just remain lying on the sofa.

'You may as well stop looking, you won't find anything.' Van Pelt looked over to him, her eyes suddenly became confused,

'Where's the doctor?' Sherlock was stumped for a second, _It's not like John to be late._ Something clicked milliseconds later,

'I'm guessing he'll be in the same place as Lisbon.' He looked at the CBI teams' faces, which were all now completely focused on him.

'One of Moriarty's styles is kidnapping those close to the one he's after and then killing that person in front of them. He almost did it last time we met and now he's going to try again. Only now, he's taken someone important to Jane as well.' The other consultant, for once, remained silent. 'I do hope you haven't been saying anything important because he'll have most likely bugged the hotel rooms as well.' At that moment, every mobile phone in the room began to ring. Sherlock got to his first and answered.

'Sherlock! How nice to hear from you again. I see you have some new acquaintances, I've got one of my own. Well, two actually, if you count this charming woman. Johnny Boy has been very good so far, you've trained him well.' Sherlock gritted his teeth and put the phone on loud speaker. Of course, the Irishman knew this had happened and addressed all who could hear him,

'Hello everyone, Moriarty here, it's a shame I haven't seen all of Sherlock's new friends. We'll right that soon.-' A blood curdling scream thrashed the phone speakers. '-Well, you can see we're having fun here. So Sherlock, how do you make your little soldier boy scream? I've tried all the usually methods and still not a peep. I think I'll have to get creative-'

'Don't. You. Dare.' The detective seethed.

'Oh, did I hit a nerve?-' Another scream, 'Hmmm, what happens if I do this-' Suddenly a new scream was added to the mix. It took a moment, but Sherlock realised what the scream was saying.

'Warehouse, Thames, East bank, snipers, Red Jo-' He was cut off suddenly.

'Well, that's enough of that. That little stunt is going to cost your pet dearly, Sherlock, maybe, if your lucky, I let you have his mangled corpse when I'm through with it. I know you do like to keep bodies in that flat of yours.' The line disconnected. The moment of silence was smashed thoroughly by the detective as he got his coat and called for everyone to take their guns and follow him, then he ran out of the room.

* * *

><p><strong>AN- <strong>sorry it's been such a long wait, we seem to be getting somewhere now

B  
>X<p> 


	9. Chapter 9

9

Grace had followed many criminals and chased very fast people through winding buildings, but she had met her match with the detective. He seemed to know every single twist, every rooftop. It was almost scary the way he navigated himself round the city. Her lungs were burning and her legs were threatening to cave in on her when the man ahead stopped suddenly. They had reached the river.

Just down from where the team stood, a group of thugs loaded coffin shaped creates into the back of a large van. Sherlock's heart froze in his chest and he was off again, only his run this time was one which could easily slip through crowds without one person noticing him pass. The CBI team tried their best to keep up but they also knew that they needed to keep hidden. Suddenly, they all got a text from an unknown number, each was exactly the same message:

**Warehouse 14. Over the bridge and go right. See you there. SH **

Rigsby couldn't believe it. That man, whoever he was, had somehow managed to run across the roof tops without drawing attention to himself and text them while he was doing it. London was indeed a strange place.

* * *

><p>The team reached warehouse 14 and cautiously made there way inside. As soon as they entered, Grace's eyes widened. Two bodies were hanging from the rafters, one male and one female. They were the right size and shape to be her boss and the army doctor. She was about to say something when a hand reached round and covered her mouth.<p>

'It's not them.' The hand receded and Sherlock Holmes passed the team and climbed up the rafters. The detective drew a small pocket knife and cut the ropes, calling for the group on the floor to step back. The bodies dropped and hit the concrete floor with a dull thud. Sherlock was down by them before the rest of the group had even thought to move. He removed the back sacks which had been used as hoods. The dead bodies looked remarkably similar to John and Teresa, so much so that Patrick had to glance at the body again to make sure. Sherlock removed the shirt from the male, this raised eyebrows but he ran his hand over the shoulder and froze. _He has a healed scar on the same shoulder as John._ For something like that to happen was very unlikely so this had to have been pre-planned. Sherlock was suddenly aware of a quiet ticking.

'Everyone, carefully make your way out. Now.' They didn't move, 'Go!' He hissed, pushing them towards the exit.

* * *

><p>Once they had gotten out, Sherlock looked round, feeling that he was missing something. The detective eyes scanned the group then cast his eyes to the warehouse. He ran back inside to find Rigsby on the floor, blood pooling around him. Sherlock quickly checked for vitals then edged himself under the CBI agent, swiftly picking up the other man and moving back to the door. The rest of the team were still stood just outside,<p>

'Are you thick?' Sherlock asked, 'The bomb in there could go off at any minute and judging by who we're up against it could be easily powerful enough to blow up this whole end of the river yet here you are, stood but three metres away. What the hell is wrong with you?' The team finally got the message and ran, Cho helped Sherlock carry the quickly fading Rigsby until they got back to the bridge where they gently laid him down and put pressure on the bullet wound to his stomach. The detective dug his phone from his pocket and pressed the speed dial,

'Mycroft, get an ambulance here now. Bullet to the stomach a lot of blood, I can't tell you anymore. I wish John were here. I don't care how, just do it.' The line disconnected and the group could only hope that help arrived in time. Cho silently wondered who Mycroft was, why he was on this man's speed dial and why the people here seemed to have such strange names which bore no resemblance to who they actually were. After all, 'Sherlock' meant 'fair haired' and his man was very clearly not. The agent stop his thoughts there and turned his focus back to were it was needed, keeping Rigsby alive.

* * *

><p>Down the river, a large explosion rippled across the water and sent plumes of smoke and flames into the darkening sky. Debris littered the surrounding area and the thunderous sound it emitted could be heard across the city of London, stirring the well-seated panic in the residents closest to the riverbank.<p> 


	10. Chapter 10

10

John head ached. His arms and back ached. In fact, he didn't think there was a single place on his body that wasn't injured in one way or another. He cast his eyes over to Lisbon, who was unconscious-sleeping, thankfully. The soldier sighed in relief as he tried to take account of her injuries. None of them were close to those he himself had sustained and as such, none would be life threatening. Not yet anyway. A splitting pain reminded the doctor that moving broken limbs was not a clever thing to do. The van they were in jostled as it ran over a pothole in the road, causing the pain to spike again. John bite his tongue to keep quite, he didn't want the thugs to realise one of their captives was awake. _God, Sherlock, you'd better get your act together or we're screwed._ Lisbon's eyes fluttered and John carefully made his way over to her. She awoke with a start but thankfully without any sound. After staring at the doctor for a few seconds she finally spoke,

'Shit, John. What the hell happened to you?' Despite himself, John smiled,

'I learnt a few tricks on how to keep the attentions of madmen during my time with Sherlock.' He replied before having to gasp for breath, his hand instinctively went to his ribcage and he groaned. _Great, cracked ribs as well._ The van lurched to a stop and the soldier hissed for the woman to pretend to sleep again. He stayed upright, knowing that the men behind the wheel had discovered at least one was awake. The van doors burst open and a large man poked his face through the gap.

'Good evening, any chance of letting me go?' John asked, trying to control his breathing enough to speak a sentence without having to gasp for air. The man stepped inside and hauled the soldier out of the van then dragged him through a wooden door.

Once inside, the doctor knew he was in trouble. His legs couldn't hold his weight and as soon as the thuggish man released his grip, John fell to the floor. He cast his eyes around the room he was in. The warehouse which they had just come from was a place that was simple and easy to find, a taunt. Here, the soldier had no baring of where he was at all. Which meant they were somewhere that the madmen thought they wouldn't be disturbed. The second thought that came to mind, though really it should have been the first, was that the room was filled with various implements and torture devices. The door opened again behind him and Lisbon was thrown into the room. She clearly was able to stand, even if it was only for a minute or two, but had decided it was probably best to feign injury. Understandable for most criminals but not this pair.

'Johnny, my dear, you're looking a little worse for wear. Are you quite alright?' The two captives jumped at the sound and turned as quickly as they were able to the consulting criminal who had just entered.

'I would be if I wasn't in the same room as you.' The doctor tried to keep his voice steady, he didn't want to anger the psycho. The other man tutted and walked over to Lisbon, picking her up off the floor,

'So Johnny,' He said, with his eyes still focused on the woman, 'When we played our little games today, you were far more fun. Far more difficult to break.' John shivered with the memory and Moriarty continued, 'I will make you a deal. You come with me now and we'll knock the pretty lady unconscious and give her back.' Lisbon's eye widened as she turned her head to the doctor,

'No. John, you can't possibly be thinking that. Don't you dare-' She was cut off by the voice of a seasoned soldier,

'Be quiet Lisbon.' He then addressed Jim Moriarty, 'You'll leave her alone after that?' The criminal smiled,

'Of course Johnny, my friend can't be bothered with the whole kidnapping lark, and it is you I want. We'll just send her on back with a little message, then you and I can get reacquainted with each other.' The doctor ran through his options, while one voice screamed, '_You idiot! You can't trust him, he's a fucking psycho!_' Another said calmly, '_But he's always stuck to his deals. For a criminal psychopath he has exceptional manners._' The doctor went with the calmer voice.

'Ok.' He said finally, before looking back at Lisbon with dead eyes.

* * *

><p><strong>AN-<strong> Hey people, sorry for taking so long to update and it's going to be a while before the next chapter will be up too. *Hides*  
>Please review<p>

B  
>x<p> 


	11. Chapter 11

'Shit Lisbon, are you ok?' The words were there but in her current haze, Teresa couldn't quite put the pieces together. The world seemed slightly off-colour. Shadowy figures gathered round her and she felt she should know who these people were. Slowly, things in her mind seemed to connect back up again.

'Grace?' The next few seconds were filled with various sighs of relief. Lisbon blinked and, now her eyes were working properly, looked around the room. Her eyebrows furrowed as she tried to work out were she was. The group around her moved back to give her space and the detective stood a metre away, staring at her intently. She shifted uncomfortably under his gaze and he swept out the room, coat tails twirling after him. She allowed herself a moment to wonder what was wrong with him before turning her attention back to more important matters.

'Where am I?' She asked the small group. Cho answered her almost immediately,

'You're in the hospital ward in the manor house belonging to Mycroft Holmes.' The leader looked round the small room. She wasn't seriously injured, John had seen to that. _Oh Shit, John. _She sat up a little too quickly and hissed in pain. A few nurses rushed forward from where ever they had been hiding to push her back down, saying comforting words and how she wasn't strong enough yet.

'But, John, We have to get John.' She tried to struggle but the nurses were stronger, slightly surprising considering their relative sizes.

'It's ok, Lisbon,' Rigsby said, 'We'll get him. But you need to recover.' Sherlock returned to the room, his eyes were determined. He would listen, she knew he would.

'Sherlock. John, they still have him. We have to rescue him. We've got to-' the words seemed heavy and hard to form. She looked toward the nurses to find they'd injected something into her IV fluids.

'Don't worry,' One said, 'You just need to relax.' Teresa tried to move but her arms refused to obey her.

'B-bu Joh' She whispered, the battle had for control had been lost but she couldn't help to fight the overwhelming drowsiness at took over her senses.

* * *

><p>The CBI team left the room, following the consulting detective through the corridors of the manor house. They had been in the Holmes Manor for just under a fortnight, Lisbon had only been there for about five days but she was being kept in a drug induced coma while she recovered. The CBI team still didn't know why she had been dumped on the doorstep, the letter that had been placed on her had been snatched up by the detective and he still refused to show them what it said, but they were thankful she was still alive. Sherlock lead them through to the main living area and muttered something about making themselves comfortable before leaving again. Cho narrowed his eyes slightly and followed the consulting detective out. The rest of team may be fine just with doing exactly what the English detective told them, but he wanted answers. Sherlock turned a few corners then stopped and faced the other man.<p>

'What do you want.' He snapped, it sounded more like an order than a question. Cho kept his facial expression level, he was not going to be intimidated.

'I want to know what was in that letter. So me it.' Sherlock glared at him then reached into his pocket.

'If John were here he would get me to show you.' The detective muttered to himself. 'Ok, here.' He said holding out the letter. Cho took it and the detective turned and made his way through the corridors, quickly vanishing out of sight. The CBI agent made his way back to the living area.

'Where did you go?' Van pelt asked as Cho walked through the door. He held up the letter and the rest of the team quickly gathered round. He opened it and began to read.

**Sherlock,**

**We hope you like our little gift, we took the utmost care getting it to you with as little damage as possible. If you think this present is a two-parter then you are sadly mistaken. I've taken quite a liking to the good doctor, we are having so much fun, so I don't think I'll be giving him back any time soon. Unless he breaks that is, in which case I'll be wanting a refund.**

**He's a curious one, your pet-so sorry, your **_**assistant**_**. Given the choice to save one life between him and another, he chose the other. Quite the enigma, I think you'll agree, so I've decided to conduct a few experiments of my own. Unfortunately, this will mean I'll have to recruit a selection of people to help me in my endeavours. Kindly keep out of my way, we wouldn't want any slip ups. **

**Give my best to the American hounds that brother of yours employed. **

**All my love**

**M**

The team looked at each other in silence. A few moments past then Rigsby asked,

'So how many people has he kidnapped?' Van Pelt picked up the newspaper she had been reading, a stricken look on her face.

'If all of these are his, then in the past week and a half, he's taken forty people, including five children under ten.' The silence fell again. Jane looked up to see they were not alone. Sherlock walked inside,

'And this is why I didn't let you read it. It wasn't for you. It was a warning to me. We can't do anything, John will die anyway but he will be made to suffer first if we try to stop Red John or Moriarty.' He said, emotionless. Van Pelt looked at him,

'So what are we going to do?' She asked. He smiled but there was no feeling behind the mask and beckoned them to follow.


	12. Chapter 12

12

Everything hurt. John didn't want to open his eyes for fear that he would see that he had been dragged into hell. He doubted to would feel much different than this. The chilly air wrapped round his chest, his shirt had been removed many hours before.

'I know you're awake, pet. Open your eyes.' The Irish accent said sweetly. The doctor groaned, he didn't know which mood he hated more. When the psycho was angry, John ended up screaming til his voice cracked and left him completely. However; when Moriarty was in one of his good moods he was so unpredictable. He went from being kind to being evil in a split second. The soldier was sure it had to be some sort of trigger, something he said or didn't say, but he didn't know what it was. He opened his eyes. The psycho smiled brightly,

'There you are! Come on, we've got so much to do today.' That could only be bad. John sat up slowly, wincing as he opened the cuts along his back. Something warm pressed against them and the soldier flinched.

'Don't worry pet, it's just a cloth dipped in warm water. I can't have you in too much agony before we've even started.' Though he didn't want to, John couldn't help but relax as the warm cloth and soft massages worked their magic on his muscles.

'There you go, Johnny Boy.' The psycho said. 'Now we can get started.' The soft hands trailed up John's back to his neck where they gripped tightly and forced the doctor to his feet. Two goons appeared from the shadowy corners of the room and each grabbed an arm, holding him steady. Jim let his fingers trail along his captives well defined chest, it was going to be such a shame when he destroyed it but he was sure he'd get over it. The consulting criminal smiled evilly as he produced a sharp blade, John knew better than to show emotion, he been through enough to know he wasn't going to give the madman what he wanted. It took less than five minutes for him to realise his mistake. When Jim didn't see fear or any emotion, he became annoyed and dug the blade edge into the scar on John's shoulder until the soldier screams could be heard three miles away.

* * *

><p>Five hours later, John Watson found he was once again alone in the room. He had been slashed and stabbed and bruised all over. The wounds on his chest were weeping and he knew the conditions of the room were less than sanitary. He tried to keep the deepest of the injuries off the floor, which crossed out lying down completely as both his chest and his back were a messy wreck of bloody flesh. Every breath sent a knew wave of agony coursing through his system and he felt the edges of his vision blur round the edge. John sighed, he didn't want to give up consciousness when he was at the mercy of Jim Moriarty but it dawned on him that he really didn't have a choice. Just as John was about to fall to the floor, strong hands grabbed him and lifted him off the ground. The doctors heart leapt as he thought that his ordeals were over but that hope shattered as he heard the commanding voice.<p>

'Ok, boys. He doesn't sleep. I don't care how you do it but he stays awake.' Jim said harshly then he smiled unnervingly and planted his lips on the soldiers forehead.

'Have a nice night, Johnny Boy, I'll see you in the morning.' Then he was gone. John felt his eyes close then freezing cold water covered his entire body, bringing him back into reality in one sharp pull. He finally took a good look at what the goons had at their disposal and was suddenly filled with dread. _Ice, an extremely powerful fan, various torture devices including electric pads and medieval equipment like thumbscrews. _John felt a chill run through his body but this chill had nothing to do with the freezing water.


	13. Chapter 13

13

Jim Moriarty giggled as he made his way down the corridors. He opened a door and entered the large room with skip. In the far corner, the TV was on but the sound wasn't. _BBC World News_, Jim recognised instantly then immediately cast it out again as unimportant information. The man in the chair facing the screen suddenly became aware of Moriarty's presence and stood up to face him.

'So, how's your stay in England so far?' Jim asked cheerfully. The man leant back thoughtfully, hands in his pockets.

'I suppose it's ok, so far. A bit boring though.' He replied. Moriarty nodded.

'Yes, well, I've got what I wanted so now it's your turn. What do you want to do?' The Irishman asked, bringing his mobile out of his pocket and unlocking the screen. The visitor thought for a moment.

'I want to bring Jane into the fold.' He answered coldly. 'I want to see him suffer.' Jim smiled and passed his phone over to the other man.

'If that's the case, I have a few plans already drawn up. Do any of these take your fancy?' After flicking though the files on the phone, the man's mouth twitched into a smile.

'You certainly live up to expectations, Mr Moriarty.' He laughed. Jim hummed,

'Well lets see if you live up to yours, Red John.'

* * *

><p>'So you're telling me you know where he is but you won't tell me or do anything to get him out?' Sherlock's voice was only just containing the fury he felt towards his brother. The CBI team stood as close to the door as possible, they had been in England for nine days now, John had been in the hands of the madmen for five of them. Lisbon was still weak but she had been allowed out of the ward and had thrown herself back into the case with renewed vigour. In the whole time that the team had known Sherlock, this was the first time they felt truly afraid of him. He had flew into his brothers office, coat tails flying behind him.<p>

'You know as well as I that doing anything would almost certainly result in your flatmates immediate demise.' Mycroft was the picture of the British government; calm and collected.

'But you know where he is!' The consulting detective shrieked. 'You Know where he is and you didn't tell me. You wouldn't tell me, even after I found out you denied it.' Sherlock's voice suddenly became quieter, it cracked slightly but not enough for the CBI team to notice. 'It's not the fact that it wouldn't make any difference. It's that you didn't tell me.' Mycroft looked at him, head cocked at an angle. It had been so long since he had seen the little brother he once knew and now he had found him again it was because he had once again misused and abused the trust that they used to rely on.

'I am sorry, brother.' He said in a low voice, the one he used to use to calm the younger, enraged Sherlock. The consulting detective looked at him, his eyes hollow.

'No. No, you're not.' Then he walked out of the room. Lisbon watched as he left then turned to the government official.

'How could you?' She asked. He turned round, confused. The CBI leader carried on regardless. 'How could you do that to him? Are you blind? He has been worried sick, spending every moment trying to find Dr Watson. He is your brother and you didn't tell him. What kind of brother are you?' She looked at him with something akin to disgust. 'If I had an older brother, I'd hope he would take care of me. I'd hope he would do anything to stop me from the torment.' She turned to walk away but stopped when she heard the well-articulated voice.

'I am protecting my brother. I knew that the moment he knew of Dr Watson's whereabouts, he would do something stupid which would most likely result in both men being killed along with, at worst, half of the population of Britain. I love my brother and I know him better than any of you. Do not presume to test me on this.' Mycroft was stern but he allowed a small portion of his true feeling to show through. Lisbon was startled for a brief second then she nodded and walked out of the room, gesturing for the team to follow her. She needed to find Sherlock before he went after John.

* * *

><p>It didn't take that long to locate the detective, he was lay down in the middle of the dining room table, arms were up over his head and eyes were fixed at a point on the ceiling.<p>

'Sherlock?' Lisbon asked, wondering why he wasn't trying to break out of the house or already half way across town. The consulting detective huffed then turned his face towards the group at the door.

'What?' He snapped, 'Did you think I would just go out guns blazing?' He sat up. 'I'm not stupid. I know I can't just go and pick him up like he's at work.' Van Pelt tentatively made her way up to him.

'I only knew you existed under a fortnight ago but I know you are probably the smartest man in the world. I know you can find a way to save him.' She said softly. Sherlock scoffed and leapt off the table gracefully.

'I'm not the smartest man in the world.' He sighed. 'And I'm not the hero. John is as good as dead now. All we can do is try to save everyone else.' He walked out of the room and seemingly disappeared from sight. The CBI team looked at each other then sat down at the table, spreading the file across it's surface. Van Pelt stood and excused her self and left the room.


	14. Chapter 14

14

Mycroft sat at his desk. The clock on the wall ticked steadily as he flicked through the various pages of top secret files. A quick knock alerted him to someone at the door. He nodded to his assistant who opened it and allowed the slim woman in. He allowed an eyebrow to relay a slight gesture of surprise, the ginger agent, Van Pelt his mind supplied, was not the one he thought he would be facing.

'Um, Mr Holmes?' She asked.

'Yes?'

'It's about your brother.' _Ah, it makes sense now, _Mycroft thought.

'If this is about his mannerisms, I can assure you that he has always been this way.' The government official said. She shook her head.

'No. It's not how he acts. It's what he said. When I first met him it was obvious he cared for John Watson, I didn't think anything of it. But now he's acting like John was nothing but a possession. Something he loved but would go to much effort to find it once it's lost. It's as if he's already thinking about how to replace John. I worried for him.' Van Pelt kept her voice quiet but firm, she wasn't going to show she was intimidated by the elder Holmes. Mycroft's expression softened.

'I know.' He answered. 'It's how he deals with grief. He doesn't understand emotions, when he gets burned, he cauterises that area and moves on. It's the only way he can work.'

'What do you mean?' Van Pelt asked, confused. The elder Holmes brother sighed.

'I mean that he works with facts. It has been years since I've seen him show any emotion at all. But he knows that if he lets those emotions in, he can't work to his full potential which is what he needs now.' Mycroft answered. He knew the moment that the woman understood by her cleared expression. He smiled politely.

'There's nothing that can be done. You just need to let him get on with it.' Grace nodded and left the room. The elder Holmes watched her leave then turned his attention back to the files.

* * *

><p>Van Pelt never made it back to the rest of the team. The red laser that flicked from wall to wall trying to latch on to it's target completely passed by her conscious thought. Thankfully, she wasn't wanted dead. Or at least, not yet. Her last thought as the bullet punched through her stomach was a confused, <em>What the fuck is happening? <em>Her nerves instantly numbed and she sank into the dream world.

* * *

><p>Jane walked down the corridors. Of course he'd be the one sent to find Grace. It wasn't his fault she got lost, why should he find her? The carpet seemed to turn a slightly darker shade and he was suddenly faced with the lifeless body of the missing agent.<p>

'Shit.' He cursed before yelling pleas of help to anyone who could hear. He noticed a split second too late that the red dot on the wall had moved. A sharp prick hit his neck and he blacked out.

* * *

><p>Lisbon paced the room. Patrick should back by now. He should have been back an hour ago. It wasn't uncommon for the consultant to forgo everything she said but this was just ridiculous.<p>

'Come on, we best go and find him.' She sighed. She would go alone but there was something slightly off about this and she wasn't taking any chances. Cho and Rigsby obviously felt the same way, or they just didn't think she'd be able to walk that far. Either way, they followed. The three walked down the corridors until they got to a dark section of the carpet. They looked in quickly escalating horror as it became clear the darkened section on the carpet was in the shape of one of there own.

'Uh, Lisbon.' Rigsby called. 'I think you should look at the wall.' Teresa didn't want to but she knew she had to. She also knew what she was going to find. Her eyes slowly moved up the wall until they saw the red liquid painted in the shape of a smiley face.

'Get Mycroft and Sherlock down here now.' She called, not bothered who carried out the order as long as it was carried out. Rigsby turned and ran back down the way the way they had come.

'At least we know they are both still alive.' Cho stated, Lisbon whipped her head round to look at him.

'How can you be so sure, I don't think anyone can survive such a loss of blood. And the face was only put when people had died.' She countered. A new voice answered her.

'Cho is right. If either of your agents were deceased then their bodies would have been left here. They are both still alive, but I'm not sure if that's a good thing.' Sherlock said as Mycroft moved up behind him. The consulting detective flew into action, checking each blood stain and print on every surface in the area. A less than a minute later he turned back to the group.

'They've been gone a while. At least 45 minutes. Maybe more. Van Pelt was shot with an assault riffle, she wouldn't have known what hit her. As for Jane, there's none of his blood here. They're saving him for later.' He said. Mycroft nodded his agreement but Lisbon spoke up.

'How do you know Jane was even taken at all?' She asked, sounding harsher than she meant to. The detective rolled his eyes but refrained from unleashing the hailstorm of insults.

'It's obvious. Van pelt was left on the floor for a long time. If they wanted her, they would have moved her straight away. She was bait for Jane. They moved both when Jane found her, knowing that he would be easy to knock out once his attention was focused on her.' He looked round. 'What I don't understand is why help didn't come. Jane would have yelled as soon as he found Van Pelt, there are always maids in this wing of the house-' Sherlock began to move around, wrenching a door open. '- so why did know one-Oh.' The group came to look in the room. The mangled corpses of three maids lay strewn on the floor. Their blood painted the walls with smileys.


	15. Chapter 15

15

Jane woke up in a haze. He hated tranquilisers. He opened his eyes to find himself in a large room that was completely bare. The walls were pristine white and the only link to the outside world was a metal door, also painted white. He groaned as a nauseating feeling washed through him. The memories of what had happened flicked back to him and he shouted obscenities in the hope they would somehow help. They didn't.

* * *

><p>John didn't know what to expect when the door to his cell opened but he sure as hell didn't expect it to be goons lifting him up and taking him to a makeshift hospital ward. On the white sheets of a hospital cot, lay the CBI agent. John felt his blood freeze. A voice crackled to life from a speaker somewhere in the room.<p>

'Hey Johnny, I hope you like your present. Unfortunately, she's a bit damaged and we don't have the knowledge or the reason to fix her so we'll leave it to you. You don't have to do anything, but I guess that would be going against your vows. The hospital ward is kitted out with everything medical. Have fun!' The speaker went dead and John looked with a hurt expression to the woman in the cot. Despite the agony he felt with every movement, he knew that he couldn't let her die. Rolling his aching shoulders, the doctor set to work.

* * *

><p>The remaining three members of the CBI team watched on as the Holmes brothers did what they did best. Mycroft was ordering various groups of people around, moving the bodies and cleaning up the mess while Sherlock worked the room and corridor as any other crime scene, seemingly unaware that it was in fact his own childhood home and where he had been living for the past two weeks. Teresa felt helpless as she watched on, unable to do anything. Two of her team had been taken from under her nose and she was to blame. She should have made someone go with Jane.<p>

'If you did that then you would have three missing agents instead of two.' The calm voice of the government worker told her. She felt the cold chill run down her spine, she was still unused to the mind reading attributes of the Holmes's. she very much doubted she would ever get used to the talent. A hand softly placed it's self on her shoulder then disappeared again less than a second later, making her wonder if it actually happened or if she was just imagining things.

* * *

><p>The group sat at the large dining table to eat. Mycroft and Sherlock each sat at opposite ends and the three agents sat together on one side. The waiters had brought each person a specific meal based on their tastes- the cooks were good at knowing what those tastes were. Dinner was eaten silence, Sherlock didn't eat at all. Though that wasn't unusual, the servants didn't even bother to bring him a plate.<p>

Once they'd all finished, Lisbon spoke up.  
>'Has anyone made any progress?' She asked hopefully, looking more to the consulting detective than to his older brother. Both men remained silent. 'What, nothing?' She said. Sherlock stood and strode out of the room with a stormy expression on his face. Mycroft sighed.<p>

'No. Knowing where they are doesn't help us at all. We are just as stuck as we were before only now there's more a stake. I have a team outside the base, just in case the situation changes but I know that it won't.' Lisbon looked at him. On the surface, he was a man who waved lives like cards in a child's card game but deep down, each life cost him a part of his own.

'We must rescue them.' She said softly. 'We can't just leave them there. I know you could get in. we've got to try.' The government official cast his eyes into her own, she shivered as she felt as if he stared straight through her.

'Fine. I will give you access. And Sherlock as well. But on your own head be it. I cannot allow anymore of the government to get involved.' Then he stood and left. Lisbon smiled to herself. _She had persuaded the immoveable object that was Mycroft Holmes, how many people could truly say that? Less than a handful, most likely. _But through the content she felt, Lisbon couldn't help but wonder if she had made the right choice.


	16. Chapter 16

John had worked tirelessly to stabilise his patient and was finally blessed with the steady beat from the heart monitor. Van Pelt was still in a drug induced coma, the longer he kept her asleep the less chance that his captors would torture her as they wouldn't know if it would kill her or not and they clearly didn't want her dead. Not yet anyway.

'Well done, Johnny! You really are quite the skilled surgeon, I'm impressed.' The doctor tried to block out the noise coming from the speakers but to no avail. 'The nurses can take care of her from here, I want my play thing back. Go on, out you go.' The soldier gritted his teeth at the command. He could refuse outright, just say no, and if he was by himself he would have. But with Grace there, she was still his patient and he couldn't put her in harms way, not after all she'd been through. John sighed and patted her shoulder then walked calmly out of the room. The moment he stepped outside, the goons grabbed him again.

'You had to think about that, didn't you?' The speakers crackled. 'Good to see you made the right decision in the end.' The doctor let himself be towed away by the goons, inwardly dreading whatever there was to come.

* * *

><p>Patrick flicked his eyes open as the blond doctor was bustled into the room. John looked in horror as he realised he didn't know how many of the team had been captured.<p>

'How's Grace?' The consultant asked. John blinked in surprise.

'She's alive.' John answered. The other man grimaced. The doctor was still being held by the goons.

'Why don't you let him go? It's not like he can do anything.' Jane said. The goons remained expressionless.

'It's no use trying to reason with them, believe me.' John sighed. The speaker crackled above them.

'That's good advice pet, you best hope your friend here takes it. Not that it will matter.' The door creaked open again and Jim Moriarty waltzed inside. He took hold of the doctors chin and pulled it up so they stared eye to eye.

'I just thought you might like to see Mr Jane before he has a play date with my guest, this might be the last chance you get after all.' John's eyes widened in horror, flicking his gaze to Patrick. Moriarty chuckled, letting go of the blonds face and patting his head instead. 'Oh, Johnny. You're always so worried for everyone else's safety. It's quite charming really.' His attention turned to the goons. 'We're done here, of you go, back to his cell. I'll be there in a few.' As the soldier was dragged away, the consulting criminal wiggled his fingers in a wave. John's presence was replaced by that of a slim man who Jane had never met before but he knew instinctively who it was.

'Patrick, how nice to see you. Here. Under my control. I think I will enjoy this greatly.' Red John said with a smile before turning to his host. Jim smiled and left the room. As strange as it sounded, Jane almost wished the consulting criminal stayed. After all, better the devil you know than the devil you don't.

* * *

><p>Sherlock buttoned up his coat and waited outside for the rest of the team to catch up. Lisbon walked outside with only the slightest hint of a limp, not so much that anyone other than a Holmes could notice it. The detective became a notch more anxious as they waited for the other two to join them. Cho appeared first, straightening his tie and looking generally thoughtful about what was to come. Rigsby exited behind him and closed the door.<p>

'Right.' Sherlock said. 'We have one shot at this. If we get it wrong we're all dead, if we get it right the chances are that some of us will still be dead. Lets go.' Then he swiftly made his way to the sleek black car that Mycroft had provided for them. The team got in, Cho behind the wheel, and the car pulled away. The detective pulled out his phone and checked the messages. In his haste to get ready, he had missed his phone receiving a text.

_Pet seems to have settled in well, he even has his own hospital ward now. I can't say the same for your American friends… Still some you win, some you lose ;) x_

Sherlock gripped the phone tightly.

'Cho, we need to get there now.' He said through gritted teeth. The agent didn't answer and the car lurched forwards.

* * *

><p><strong>AN-<strong> Sorry it's been so long since I last updated so here's two chapters to make up for it.

B  
>x<p> 


	17. Chapter 17

The country mansion didn't see the small black car pull up behind it nor the small group that stealthily made their way in through one of the side windows. After all, in a mansion this big, who was going to notice a few extra staff?

* * *

><p>'<em>John will be on either the third floor or higher. Patrick will be in the basement. Grace will probably be in this hospital ward that Moriarty told me about.' The consulting detective had said when he got a look at the building from the back seat of the car. <em>

'_And how could you possibly know that?' Lisbon asked, staring at him. He sniffed for some unknown reason._

'_Because Moriarty would want his John to know that he could escape but even John would jump from the third story on to solid pavement. Patrick is Red Johns captive and he'll want your consultant to be as sensually depraved as possible so he'll be in the basement. Grace, the wounds she sustained will not have healed at all yet. Moriarty told me that John now has his own hospital ward so he fixed up your agent. The hospital and John's cell will be close by because no one in the building except him will have any medical qualifications. Apart from, perhaps, Moriarty himself. It's all rather simple when you look at it.'_

* * *

><p>John lay back on the bed, wincing as the scars-some days old, some hours old-scraped over the rough material. The hospital ward had called him down twice to say which meds to use. He decided that the 'nurses' had no proper training at all or they would know the difference between a pain killer and an antibiotic. If not then the NHS really had let it's standards slip. The doctor tried to make best of the time he had. Moriarty had a nasty habit of walking in whenever he bloody well felt like it and each time he did, John got another few scars or bruises or both to add to the mix. He was sure he had at least five cracked ribs, maybe one of them was broken. It certainly felt that way. His left wrist was sprained or strained. The pain had clouded his mind enough that he couldn't quite tell which one it was. The door opened but John didn't look at whoever entered. He'd find out soon enough.<p>

'Johnny Boy.' The falsely high voice called. 'You know you should look at me when I enter.' The doctor gulped and flicked his eyes over to the quickly approaching psycho. He remained perfectly still, seemingly frozen to the spot. Jim smirked and sat on the bed.

'So pet, do you want to go for a walk? You've not been out of the house since you got here.' He said sweetly. John edged away.

'Uh. What's the catch?' He asked. These nice patches in the psycho's behaviour were more worrying than when he was being all out 'I will take you're intestines and feed them to you while forcing you to watch everyone you know get hanged from the roof' evil. Moriarty smiled tightly and began trailing his fingers across the wounds on the soldier.

'There is no catch, Johnny, I just thought that pets needed time outside. It's not right to keep them cooped up. Now come on, you're going out.' It started off sweet but the last sentence was harsh. The doctor sat up a little too quickly and hissed in pain as the scabs opened up again. The psycho giggled and stood up, pulling the soldier to his feet.

'Out.' He said, pushing the man forwards.

* * *

><p>Cho walked along the third floor's main corridor, pushing a trolley loaded with cleaning equipment. He kept his head down but let his eyes flick to each door, looking for any sign of reinforcement. Nothing. Then two figures walked past him, Moriarty was talking animatedly about fun past times as he lead his captive, Cho let his face stay absolutely emotionless and prayed that John did the same. Once they had past he carried on walking until he had rounded the corner.<p>

'Sherlock.' He murmured. 'John has just past with Moriarty going in the direction of the stairs.' It wasn't what they had hoped but at least he was alive. The agent made his way along the corridor until a hospital door appeared. He glanced through then slipped inside.


	18. Chapter 18

_Shit. Shitshitshitshitshit._ John's thoughts were a mass of shrieking obscenities. _Stupid! Why did they have to come?_ Of course, he let none of this show on his face. Cho walked past and if one agent was there then the rest must be as well. _How could Sherlock be so stupid?_ Moriarty didn't seem to have noticed but the doctor was sure he had, he just wasn't bothered as long as he had his pet. _That's why he wanted me to go out with him._ John realised. _He knew they were coming._ The criminal chuckled softly to himself but said nothing. When they got to the steps and Moriarty grabbed his captives hand to support him. John stared in shock.

'I can't have you falling down the stairs, Johnny. Then you'd have to go to a hospital and we all know the trouble that would cause.' He said sweetly. The soldier steeled himself and took the first step down, hissing as the pain shot up his body. Every step downwards sent another wave of pain sweeping his body but he didn't make another sound. They got to the bottom and the consulting criminal dragged him down another corridor to the garden.

* * *

><p>'Grace?' Cho said softly. The redheaded agent groaned and opened her eyes. He held her hand so he had she attention. 'Can you stand. We have to get you outta here.' He said. She nodded and stood shakily. Cho passed her work clothes similar to what he was wearing and a cap. She wrapped her hair up and put the cap on. This way she was less likely to get recognised as they escaped. The staff wouldn't look past the clothing so as long as they didn't pass Red John or Moriarty, they were safe. Van Pelt took an unsteady step and Cho passed her the cleaning trolley.<p>

'Use this to walk. We'll you the service lift.' He said in hushed tones. She nodded, not quite having the energy to speak. They exited the room, making their way to the elevator in the vain hope that they wouldn't pass the to men who would instantly recognise them.

* * *

><p>Lisbon ducked into a room closely followed by Rigsby. They had been walking along the corridor when they heard footsteps and jumped into the first room the came across.<p>

'Lisbon. How nice to see you.' Jane said calmly. The agent had to bite her tongue to stop herself from yelling. She spun round, anger evaporating as she saw the consultant. His face was scratched and bruised almost beyond recognition. When she managed to drag her eyes away from his face she gasped in horror. His shirt had been removed and his arms had quite clearly been broken in various places and then had been cuffed to a board in front of him. Once the shock of blood had past, the agents realised that something had been deeply carved into Jane's chest. Patrick huffed a laugh then grimaced.

'Ah, yes. I guess you've seen my fabulous array of scars. Especially the large smiley face. But as much fun as this has been, he's going to be back in about ten minutes so I'd be quite pleased if you two got me out of here.' He said, trying to smile. Lisbon nodded shakily and pulled out a pin. Sherlock had shown her how to pick a lock, how he'd known she'd need it was… Well, was just the Sherlockian way, she guessed. The lock sprang open and Lisbon carefully removed the cuffs trying not to jolt Patrick's arms then Rigsby put a shirt round his shoulders and showed him out of the room.

* * *

><p>Sherlock crouched in the most concealed place of the garden. He knew the Moriarty would know they were coming and the only thing he wanted was John. Therefore, he would get John out of the building. But he couldn't actually go anywhere because most of Britain was under watch of the secret services so the garden would be the only place he could go. In only took five minutes for his theory to be proven right. John was limping. Properly limping. His breathing was laboured to the extent that Sherlock could see it from a few feet away. Anger bubbled inside of him but he remained perfectly still. His enemy would think he was inside looking for John, he couldn't afford to give away his position now. John rolled his shoulders slightly and stepped forward. Moriarty whispered something to him then John's shoulders sagged before he jogged to the end of the garden and back again, the grimace never leaving his face. The criminal smiled brightly and clapped his hands, praising in a falsetto voice used for talking to cute animals. John's legs shook violently and his eyes shot up to his captive in a panic as he collapsed. Sherlock's mind shrieked for his only friend but he forced himself to remain still and silent. Moriarty had grabbed his pet and lowered him to the floor with an almost delicate touch. The detective's mind whirred as he tried to work out what had happened. Then he realised the doctor was still moving. His body had given out completely and, after the time he had spent at the mercy of the madman, it wasn't surprising.<p> 


	19. Chapter 19

Cho and Van Pelt made it back to the car unseen and they stifled their sighs of relief from the other agent. Grace all but fell into the back seat, her strength finally failing her.

'Where are the others?' She asked. Cho didn't answer as he got into the drivers seat.. The door opened and Rigsby got inside.

'I'm sorry Grace but you need to sit up. You're not the only casualty here.' He said softly before climbing in himself followed by Jane. Lisbon closed the door then got into the passenger seat. Cho put the car in gear and they set off.

'Wait!' Grace yelled. 'What about John?' Cho, Rigsby and Lisbon looked at each other.

'He and Sherlock won't be coming with us.' Cho said delicately, putting his foot down.

* * *

><p>'<em>How are we all meant to get back. This car only has five seat?'<br>_'_You will get your agents and leave. I and John won't.'  
><em>'_That is suicidal!'  
><em>'_For most maybe.'  
><em>'_No. absolutely not. We will not leave you.'  
><em>'_You must and will. Jane and Van Pelt will need medical treatment, if they aren't dead that is, and if you wait for us you will put your team members lives at risk.'  
><em>'_You are part of our team too.'  
><em>'_No. This is the plan. You leave without me and John.'  
><em>'_Bu-'  
><em>'_No.'_

* * *

><p>John cursed himself. He should have been stronger. His mind refused to break even as he felt his legs give way underneath him. Moriarty leapt forward and grabbed his arms, slowing down his descent to the ground.<p>

'Oh Johnny.' He muttered softly.

''Fuck off, I'm not dead.' The doctor wheezed in reply. The criminal gave a brief expression of shock before a smug smile spread across his face.

'Ah, this is why I like you, Johnny. You can always be counted on to surprise.' He chuckled. Jim clicked a few buttons on his mobile and a muscled goon picked up John, about to sling him over his shoulder.

'No.' Jim hissed, suddenly extremely possessive. 'Carry him properly, he's not a rag doll.' The goon shifted the doctor so he was now carried bridal style back into the house.

* * *

><p>'Mycroft. I think getting John is going to be harder than I first anticipated.'<br>'I know.'

Sherlock watched with increasing dismay as his blogger was taken back into the mansion. He waited in his hiding place until he was sure the coast was clear then he stood up and turned round into the barrel of a gun. The sniper smiled evilly as Sherlock stopped dead. _How could I have been so careless?_

'I don't suppose there's any chance of me walking out of here?' He asked hopefully. The sniper clicked off the safety. _Why was that still on?_

'Not a chance. Now turn round and walk.' The man behind the gun growled. Sherlock did the only thing he could do, he walked. The sniper held the gun firmly against the detectives back and Sherlock had no doubt in his mind that the trigger happy loon would fire without a seconds thought. _And now you're well and truly done for._ The detectives brain supplied him sarcastically. _Shut up._ He snapped. He knew the fate that awaited him, as if he needed his brain laughing at him as well! At least Mycroft would know where he was but that would help at all. He had known the consequences of getting caught before he started. Even his brother couldn't save him now.


	20. Chapter 20

'You let your present escape? And it took what, seven hours?' Moriarty chided his guest. The man in question glared at him before inspected his fingers.

'The fact is I _let_ him escape. As for your… Pet, well I don't know what draws you to him. He's so dull. In fact, he has to be the most ordinary man I've ever met.' Red John drawled. Jim smirked.

'I wouldn't expect you to see it. Dr Watson is the most extraordinary creature on the face of the earth and I plan to break him into a million little pieces and mould him into the perfect soldier boy. Moran is good but I want the best. Unfortunately, he has such a moral compass in him but I suppose you don't get anything good without working for it.' The consulting criminal sighed. A knock echoed through the room and stopped Red John reply dead. Moriarty's face twisted in annoyance.

'Enter.' He growled. Moran poked his head round the door.

'Mr Moriarty, I have Sherlock Holmes. He was spying in the garden.' The sniper said. Jim's face must have been the picture of shock. His spies had said Sherlock had said _'John is as good as dead.'_ His expression slipped into an evil grin. _Seems Shirley is more attached to Pet than he wants others to think._ The consulting criminal turned back to his guest.

'I'm sorry but there is some business I have to attend to. I'm sure a clever man like you can entertain yourself for a while.' Then he left quickly. He couldn't keep his guest of honour waiting, could he?

* * *

><p>Mycroft was waiting at the door for the agents. He had made arrangements in the hospital ward and judging by the speed in which the car had driven down the drive, clearly there was an emergency. He tutted briefly at the state of the American consultant. The red haired agent thankfully wasn't as battered but then John was the best doctor in three continents, perhaps even the world. It was a shame that he didn't by into working in the government. The elder Holmes brought his thought back to the present and lead the way to his hospital ward.<p>

'Is Sherlock here?' Lisbon asked with fragile hope. Mycroft was a brick wall, not a hint of expression seeped through onto his face.

'Sherlock will not be back, please do not ask me again.' He said placidly, opening the door for the group.

'Lisbon!'

'What?'

'I'm thirsty.'

Teresa was already sick of the consultant and they'd only been back four hours. He had taken full advantage of not being able to move either arm to make her life hell. Once he'd been rushed into the ward he was rushed out again into a surgical theatre to set the bones in his arms right. The next see saw of him was three quarter of an hour later. He had a full cast on each arm and a cast on his foot, Lisbon hadn't even realised he done anything to his foot as he hadn't utter a word as he walked out of the cell, then his chest was a mass of pads and bandages. Somehow the bandages were more disconcerting than the scars she knew were underneath. Then he grinned and suddenly that annoying bane of her life was back again. Teresa didn't know whether to be happy or sad.

'Lisbon! I can't move my hands and I don't want to trouble these nice people so I said you'd help me.' He said through the grin. _Forget happy or sad. I'm going to go with annoyed._ She thought to herself.

* * *

><p>'How could you be so stupid? Completely stupid! The fact that you came anywhere near here in itself was crazy. Bringing the agents with you was incredibly thick headed. But then sitting in the garden in the hope of somehow swiping me from under Moriarty's nose? I had thoughts you might have suicidal tendencies but I hoped you'd had the common decency to do away with yourself somewhere that I wouldn't be forced to watch.' The doctor had snapped. Finally. Sherlock slumped against the wall. Obviously, Moriarty had some plan involving both of them or he would have kept them separate.<p>

'I've never been suicidal John and I'm not now.' He answered indignantly, turning his head away in offence. John realised immediately he'd taken it a step too far.

'Oh God, I'm so sorry Sherlock. I didn't mean it.' The doctor blabbed, he would turn the mans chin to face him but he was back in the chair again, cuffed-naturally. 'Sherlock, you know I would never- I'm so sorry. Please listen to me-' The door opened and Jim Moriarty slipped inside. John shut up immediately.

'Aw, Johnny Boy. Sherlock is a mean mean man, isn't he? Come on Shirley darling, he's pleading his heart out to you. Surely you can find it in you to at least look at him. After all, you won't get the chance again.' John felt his blood freeze. Sherlock looked dead straight into his eyes, as if he was taking in every feature on his bloggers face. Jim chuckled and uncuffed the doctor.

'Now Pet,' He pressed an object in the John hand which were still behind his back then gave him a little nudge forward.

'Kill Sherlock.'

* * *

><p><strong>AN-<strong> Aren't you guys lucky! I've managed to update this a lot lately, mostly to make up for all the times it was weeks before updates. I'll update sooner if you review! (How that works, I don't know, but it does!) Oh, and I know that was an evil cliffhanger but I just couldn't resist.

B  
>x<p> 


	21. Chapter 21

John could have laughed.

'You think that pressing a knife in my hand and ordering me to kill my best friend is all that it would take for me to commit murder? What kind of madman do you think I am? Seriously?' The doctor barked. Jim gave a tight-lipped smile.

'Perhaps not. But by the end of the night you will be begging me to end his life.' Moriarty said. Sherlock looked at him, John clearly hadn't worked out what Moriarty was talking about. His pride was stopping him from seeing it.

'Just kill me, John.' He said, forcing his voice to remain level. The doctor looked at him like he had turned a bright shade of green.

'You can't be serious.' He stuttered. Sherlock grit his teeth together.

'Hoe can you be so thick, John. Of course I don't want to die! But I'd much rather die quickly than being tortured in front of you until you finally snap and plead to kill me. If there's one thing I cannot take, it's that. Now for Gods sake, just do it!' A sweat had manifested on the detective brow as he gave up all pretence of being calm. John's eyes widened as realisation hit him like a tonne of bricks. He turned to Moriarty and back to Sherlock. He took a breath and moved the knife into a better grip. Jim raised an eyebrow, _Pet has wielded a knife before. Interesting._ The solider stepped towards his flatmate and stopped. He opened his hand and the blade fell, clattering on the ground with an eerie echo.

'I can't.' His voice cracked. 'I'm so sorry Sherlock but I just can't.' The soldier sank to his knees in the hope that the concrete floor held the key to his escape. The detective's expression softened as he placed a hand on his flatmates head. Moriarty clicked his tongue.

'Well that's annoying, it seems I've pushed Pet in the abyss before teaching him to swim. Oh well.' He muttered to himself, knowing that Sherlock could hear. Then he lifted the blond off the floor. 'Come on Johnny. It's ok. I didn't realise Shirley meant so much to you.' The doctor looked confused. And Jim laughed. 'Did you really think I'd force you to kill someone? I know that's not how this works. Not yet anyway. Come on, you must be hungry.' Then Moriarty dragged his prisoner from the room and into the arms of the awaiting goons. Once they were out of sight, he walked back into the cell.

'Ok, Shirley darling, here's the deal. I'm going to let you go back to big brother and you will not come after me at all for the next three months. That means taking cases that I have had a part in as well. After that, you're free to do what you like. If I can't break little solider boy be then then he can't be broken and I will happily give you back the pieces. Tell your American friends I say hi.' Before the detective could answer, he left a prick in his neck and the world went dark.

* * *

><p>There were many things Mycroft had come to expect when Sherlock was finally brought back to him. He expected a mangled corpse to be unceremoniously dumped on the doorstep in the middle of the night or perhaps to wake to find the lifeless body hanging outside his office window or even, heaven forbid, the various pieces of his dismembered body found in increasingly public places whereby the death of his brother also caused widespread panic across England. So when he opened the door to a man holding his brother unharmed out to him, he automatically took the younger man in his arms, mostly from the shock. The fragile thing stirred and he smiled. When he looked back up, the man-obviously someone who worked for Moriarty-was gone. Lisbon appeared behind him asking what he was doing. All he heard was the, 'Oh. My. God.' Which mirrored his thoughts exactly.<p>

Sherlock woke in a haze of movement and background noise. Mycroft sat on the chair next to his bed and held his hand firmly, as if afraid to let go. He tried to form words but his mouth was still refused to work. After minutes of trying he managed sound.

'Ughnm.' Not quite what he wanted but it did the trick.

'Sherlock. You're awake. I was worried for you. How could you be so stupid?' The elder Holmes voice started with relief but soon crept into a yell. Sherlock flinched. That was the third person that had called him stupid in the space pf one day, at least he thought it was a day-he didn't know how long he had been out. His brother softened his tone immediately.

'I'm sorry, there will be time for lectures later. Right now you need to wake up properly.'

'John.' Sherlock rasped. The elder Holmes looked at him.

'I know, Lock, I know. We will do all we can. We'll get him out.' He cooed.

'No.' Sherlock said between breaths. 'Mustn't try. To rescue. John. Will die. Please don't.' Mycroft stared at the lanky man as he struggled to find the words. Something inside the British Government twinged.

'Of course, dear brother, what ever you wish.' Then he walked out.


	22. Chapter 22

John stared at the tied up man in front of him. They were sat in a large room with Jim and another man he had never met before but knew instinctively who it was. Moriarty smirked and passed the doctor the knife again.

'Ok Pet. You can kill him now or you can watch my guest here kill him instead.' He said. John looked the knife and then at the person he was supposed to kill. He couldn't do it. The doctors shoulders sagged and Jim nodded to Red John, who in turn produced his own knife and made his way towards his victim.

'I've never actually killed a guy before.' He said with a smile. 'This should be fun.' John back away and turned his head but two goons somehow appeared behind him and dragged him forward, Jim grabbed his hair and forced him to watch as the American serial killer teased the man with the blade. When the man's pleas turned to screams of agony Red John had clearly gotten bored of him as his movements became faster and he slashed at the flesh. Blood splattered the walls and reached John, landing droplets on his shirt and face. Just before the victim gave out from blood loss, Red John stabbed down on his neck, slicing the artery. The lifeless shell of the man dropped onto the blood drenched carpeted floor and the doctor had to prise his eyes away. Jim chuckled.

'Sweetie, you could have saved him all that pain and suffering by just killing him yourself, you know.' The criminal mastermind cooed. When it was clear the man wasn't going to answer he turned to the goons holding him.

'Johnny Boy needs his rest, the room with the bed. Leave him unrestrained.' His said in a low voice. His men nodded and half carried, half dragged the soldier out of the room.

* * *

><p>Sherlock paced the floor of the large living room as he had been doing for four days straight. The American group sat on the sofa's watching him.<p>

'Sherlock stop. You're wearing a hole in the carpet.' Mycroft chided as he entered the room. His brother cast an ice cold glare in his direction but lay on an armchair, his head resting on one arm and his legs dangling over the other.

'What's going to happen to John?' Van Pelt asked. Sherlock turned to face the back of the chair. His brother sighed.

'Moriarty is going to turn him into his own hitman. Then he is going to use him to kill Sherlock and perhaps the rest of you too.' The government official said with a practised even tone.

'But this is John we're talking about. He wouldn't do that.' The red haired agent said, remembering how he had worked tirelessly to save her. Mycroft threw a gun at her which she caught.

'I want you to kill all your friends or I will force you to watch them brutally tortured until you beg to kill them.' He growled. The group looked shocked.

'Do it.'

Van Pelt raised the gun at Mycroft and fired. Or tried to anyway. The government official smiled sadly.

'It's a model gun. John was given a blade. He will be given a victim and told to kill them or else be forced to watch said persons slow excruciating demise. And that is how you break someone. He will eventually come to the realisation that him killing them is the best case scenario because he will do it quickly. Then he'll start to enjoy it and finally Moriarty will have his man.' The team looked shaken slightly and the laptop in the corner pinked with a new message. Sherlock moved with lightning fast speed and opened the link. The group watched as his face turned form it's normal shade to pale to white as he stared, unable to remove his eyes from the screen. Lisbon listened to the sounds and she was torn between wanting to see what was on the screen and preserving her sanity.

'_Kill him'  
><em>'_No'  
><em>'_Do it, I won't ask again.'  
><em>'_I can't.'  
><em>'_Fine. Red John, care to do the honours.'  
><em>'_Of course.' A deep chuckle and something scrapes along the ground.  
><em>'_NO! No. I'll do it. I'll do it.'  
><em>'_Well get on with it then.' Footsteps are all that can be heard for a moment then chains rattle and muffled pleas show the victim.  
><em>'_God, I'm so sorry.' The chains rattle and clang together then stop as the muffled plea become eerily silent and after a moment someone claps slowly.  
><em>'_Well done Pet. I hope next time I don't have to ask twice.'_

Mycroft watched his brother slowly and shakily stand. The detective's eyes were cold, almost dead to the world. The vulnerable child peeked through the cracks of his shattered persona.

'John.' He whispered before fleeing the room. The group looked at the empty doorway he had run through.

* * *

><p>Jane stood up with his content 'I'm better than all of you' smile and slowly made his way to the computer. He Looked at the screen and blanched. Lisbon ran to him, not for his sake but for the casts. The nurses had had enough work to last a lifetime without having to reapply his casts again. That voice alone had been enough to put her on edge, she'd had nightmare about both men for weeks. She glanced at the screen and immediately saw why the consultant had reacted the way he had. She closed the laptop screen down quickly but the image had somehow burned itself into her mind. Of course, looking she could see that John had stabbed straight through the neck, killing the poor man instantly, but that didn't stop the fact that it was so gruesome. The doctor himself seemed to have almost bathed in the red liquid which splattered against the wall and seemed to have been coated over dried blood...<p>

'Oh God.' She said, suddenly realising what Sherlock had known from the beginning. She turned to the elder Holmes brother. 'How many?' She asked. The government official gave her a cold calculating stare, as if he was checking o see if she could take the answer.

'I do not know. However Moriarty is one who works tirelessly to get what he wants. Dr Watson could have witnessed as little as four murders but as much as much as perhaps thirty five as thirty six is the amount of missing persons reports in the area and Moriarty sent that video as soon as it took place. I do not know whether Dr Watson knows this but all those that were missing had spent time in prison. It could be a coincidence but I doubt it greatly.' Lisbon would never know how the man kept his voice level and professional as he talked about his friend.

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><p><strong>AN- <strong>I wanted to wait a little longer before putting these up but I couldn't, I'm not that mean.

B  
>x<p> 


	23. Chapter 23

'I see what you mean.' The American criminal drawled as he watched the doctor kill his second victim in as many hours. 'He really is something special. I doubt any man, woman or child I've met could have watched and remained mentally stable yet here he is. Still able to think properly. It's quite amazing.' Jim smiled to himself.

'I know.' He said simply before he called his pet over to him. 'Now Johnny, time for a spot of dinner, I think.' The soldier met his eyes letting a hidden rage surface for a millisecond.

'I'm not hungry.' He replied. Moriarty tutted.

'But you've not eaten in six days. You're wasting away. I expect that kind of thing from Sherlock.' He said in mock shock. John scoffed.

'Oddly enough, blood and death makes me lose my appetite. Especially when I seem to be wearing most of the blood.' Where this sudden burst of morbid humour had appeared, John didn't know, but he whole heartedly blamed the charismatic flatmate that he was doomed to kill. Jim chuckled and ruffled the bloodstained blond hair.

'I guess you need a shower then.' He clapped his hands and the goons appeared. John allowed himself to be dragged off to the washroom. The dried blood was being to itch and his hair had clumped together. Though, at this point, he was far past caring.

* * *

><p>Two days had past. Sherlock was gone. Mycroft refused to say or do anything related to either Red John or Moriarty, claiming that he ha important business to attend to. Lisbon had had enough. She called her team together in the main living room. Jane lounged on the sofa, as he would have back home, while the rest remained perched on the edge of the seats.<p>

'We have to get John back.' The CBI leader said with authority. Jane clapped.

'Yes. Well done. Brilliant, in fact… How?' He asked. The group looked at her, each with the said same question in their mind. Lisbon looked lost of a second.

'I don't know.' She admitted. 'But we've got to try something. The detective has gone AWOL and his brother is pretending none of this even happened. At least we'll have tried.' She said with confidence. Jane nodded with his little smile as he stretched and stood up.

'Brilliant. Well, now we're all on the same page, I guess I'll be off.' Then he strolled out of the room before anyone could tell him otherwise. The group stared at the empty space where the consultant had previously sat. Lisbon half sighed, half growled.

'I swear, one of these days, I am going to _kill_ him.' She whispered to herself.

* * *

><p>Mycroft sat at his desk with paperwork threatening to enclose on him from all sides, his assistant was on her annual leave and, to make matters worse, he had the headache the size of a large continent looming over his mind. A small ping alerted him to movement in the main living room and he spared a glance at the screen. It was clear that the team leader wanted to do something to help the doctor and it was clear that the annoying consultant they had had a plan. Based on Patrick Jane's file, the government official was prepared to leave them to their own devices. At least for a short while. After all. The consultant wasn't actually as blindingly naïve and stupid as he liked people to believe. In the mean time, the was a new peace treaty with Iraq to look through and sign, a minor political scandal to cover up and the media needed putting back in their place once again. Mycroft's head spiked as he thought about the next hours worth of work. Sometimes being the British Government wasn't as fun or as worthwhile as it sounded.<p>

_Jane has gone. That little sneak of a man has up and left without so much as a 'See ya round!' _And worst of all, Lisbon knew exactly where he would be going. _His stupid save-the-day plans are going to get him killed._

'Cho! Rigsby! Van Pelt! Jane's gone. We've got to get him back before he gets killed.' Lisbon yelled down the hall, half hoping that Mycroft Holmes, the git, would listen in and either stop them and their stupid endeavour or he would get up off his lazy arse and help them get their consultant back. Preferably alive. The team appeared from various doors and gave their various replies. Of course they were getting Jane back.

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><p><strong>AN-<strong> I see the end in sight! Please review, I will update quicker if you do. And besides, it's a brilliant place to throw abuse at me.

B  
>x<p> 


	24. Chapter 24

'Jim!.. It is Jim isn't it? Oh, I see. You'd prefer to be called Mr Moriarty. That's fine, I can see you're a business man so keeping things formal is probably best.' Jane put on his winning smile as he bobbed his head in a sort of bow to the consulting criminal.

'I didn't have you pinned as an idiot, Mr Jane, clearly I will have to rethink my opinion on the matter.' Moriarty replied in a conversational tone as a group of snipers appeared out of nowhere and a flicker of red lasers darted about the mans chest. Jane put his hands up.

'I'm sorry, we seem to have gotten off on the wrong foot. I guess that's my fault but no time like the present. I want to see John. Our John, not your John. Don't want to get that confused, would lead to some very awkward moments, I can tell you.' Patrick said, mimicking Jim's tone of voice. The consulting criminal gave his tight lipped smile and stepped aside from the door, holding out a hand to welcome the un-requested guest back into the mansion.

* * *

><p>'Oh bloody fucking hell.'<p>

'Hello to you too, Dr Watson, I'm glad your doing well.' John stood in a tight fitting suit. A well made one at that. And, if the highly annoyed look on the mans face was to go by, still of sound mind.

'Yes, I'm doing just fine. Never better. I've always wanted to be a hit man.' He replied snidely. Jane watched for a few seconds as the soldier twiddled with the buttons on the jackets.

'You really don't like wearing suits, Johnny Boy, do you?' Jim asked with a chuckle as he entered. John glared at him before sighing.

'I wear want you give me.' He replied. Moriarty gave his renowned Cheshire cat smile as he picked a spec of lint of his new toy's suit.

'Hmm… I suppose that is the case. However; you'll be needing to change. Westwood is expensive, Pet, and we don't want to get blood on it.' John took the jacket off and dropped it on the floor with an air of defiance then walked out of the room. Moriarty chuckled.

'Ah, that's it Pet, nice to see you've still got that spark.' Then he turned back to the CBI consultant. 'You on the other hand, talk too much and say far too little.' Jane smirked.

'Yes, well, someone has to be the life of the party. Everything gets boring without it. But then again, that could just be me. I'm a show man born and bre-' Something sliced across his mouth, silencing him immediately.

'Just shut your God damn mouth.' The doctor growled, he stood in the doorway now dressed in a slim black shirt and black cotton trousers. The blood dripped down Jane's face and onto his white shirt, he dapped the red liquid with his sleeve before looking back at the blond man.

'What happened?' He asked through a mouthful of blood. John pointed to the wall. Patrick followed his gaze til his eyes fell upon something sticking out of the wall that hadn't been there before. He moved over to it, lips still stinging but apparently without the added effect of gushing blood, and pulled the object out.

'How the hell did you manage to throw this so it skimmed my mouth without killing me?' He asked, wincing as the cuts opened up again. Jim smiled wildly.

'Didn't you know? Johnny Boy can hit a target with just about anything from fifty paces in semi darkness. He wasn't always this good, but I guess I've got to take credit for something, haven't a Pet?' He said. John sniffed and looked away.

'If he can do all that then why aren't I dead?' Jane asked in a biting tone. John sighed with annoyance.

'Because, you fool, you're bloody well not mine to kill. And don't make a monster out of me because one person in this room has already done that and I'm not willing to allow another.' He snapped.

'Aren't you going to control that sharp tongue on your pet or do I have to cut it out?' Came a voice from the doorway.

'John.' Jim said with a smile. 'I like my pets sharp tongued. It makes them more fun. And anyway, you present has come back. Sorry it's a bit damaged.' Moriarty said with an apologetic smile which was in no way reflected in his eyes.

Red lasers flickered round the room and came to rest on either of the criminals chests. The Consulting criminal and the American serial killer stared at each other with something between annoyance and surprise.

'Remain still.' Called a voice from a mega phone outside. 'Any movement will be deemed a threat and dealt with accordingly.' The doctor and the CBI consultant gave each other a glance.

'Not bloody likely.' John said as he flicked out a gun from it's holster and fired a single shot while Patrick lunged forward with the blade he had retrieved from the wall.

* * *

><p><strong>The end<strong>

**AN-** I joke, I joke, I'm not like the producers of Sherlock. They sure like to leave these things on a cliffhanger. There will be one more chapter. (I can't believe how long this lasted) Please review!

B  
>x<p> 


	25. Chapter 25

**AN-** Hello you lovely people. You can count this as my Christmas present to you all.

* * *

><p>Sherlock burst into the room followed quickly by the CBI team. The air took on an eerie calm as the group waited to see who would fall. Red John fell to the floor with the knife jammed into his ribcage. Jane loomed above him, standing bent over double with the strain. Jim chuckled and picked the bullet out of the round hole it had made it his Westwood jacket.<p>

'Red John might not be clever enough to wear bullet-proofing but that doesn't mean I am of the same disposition.' He chuckled again. 'Well, I guess you could say I dodged a bullet.' Sherlock brought his-well John's actually-gun out of his pocket and aimed it squarely at the man's head.

'Dodge this.' He growled, pulling the trigger.

* * *

><p><em>Two days later<em>

Lisbon stared at her consultant with little more than annoyance. He saw he expression then grinned wildly. She sighed and turned to the doctor, trying to ignore the armed men stationed a few metres away for everyone's safety.

'How do you control them?' She asked him. John smiled softly.

'First you give them a little bit of leash and then you take it away again when they don't do something right.' He answered. Sherlock harrumphed and folded his arms childishly. Teresa laughed and patted the doctors arm. He gave a sideways glance at the men Mycroft had placed as guards who were given strict orders not to let him out of their sight.

'I'll keep that in mind.' Her voice changed subtly. 'You'll get rid of them soon enough. I mean, I don't see why you have to be guarded in the first place but you'll get rid of them.' John smiled but his flatmate huffed.

'Have you not forgotten that he's murdered three people now?' Sherlock asked. The CBI agent looked puzzled.

'They found the CCTV footage. He only killed two.' She said quietly. John gave his friend a warning glance and the man shut up immediately. They looked at each other then burst out laughing, serious nature evaporating.

'What are they laughing about?' Van Pelt asked the team leader. Lisbon shrugged.

'I don't know, probably some English joke.' She replied.

Mycroft entered the room with his assistant before the conversation could develop further and handed the CBI agents their tickets.

'Thank you for the help, we appreciate it greatly, and my apologies for the… mishaps along the way. But at least now two of the worlds leading criminals are where they cannot harm anyone any longer.' He said in his posh British voice.

'Not exactly.' Jane spoke. 'That wasn't Red John. I knew it from the moment he was dead. Red John would never work with another and he would never move to England. It was a wild goose chase.' He explained. Lisbon made a frustrated sound and was about to chide the consultant but she noticed that the Holmes brothers were smiling brightly.

'Ah, I was wondering if you had noticed this.' Mycroft answered. 'I had reports of Red John flown in from American which happened while you were here. But that man, who ever he was, had a sadistic disposition the like of which I haven't seen in many years. And I do so loath copycats. You'll find your record of what happened here wiped clean. It was a case of self defence with an astounding amount of evidence in your favour and a notorious criminal now gone. I don't think you'll find any trouble.' He said with a grin.

' What about John?' Van Pelt asked. The elder Holmes looked at the doctor.

'That will take a little more time. He should currently be in a holding cell to Britain's most secure prison so I consider this to be a minor triumph. As strange as it may seem, I might have to weight for a disaster to make the law department see sense.' Mycroft replied. A mobile rang and Sherlock fished it out of his pocket. John groaned as the detective answered it.

'What?' Rigsby asked. The doctor looked at him.

'That particular phone was given to Sherlock by Moriarty so that he could contact him. The only person with the number for that phone is-'

'Moriarty.' Sherlock finished with a devilish smirk. Mycroft nodded to the guards who left the room.

'It seems the disaster that we so needed has arrived.' The elder Holmes mused.

Sherlock turned to leave when his blogger coughed and pointedly looked and the CBI consultant. The detective looked as if he were going to whine but something the soldiers eyes stopped him and he trudged over to the other man.

'Thanks for the help. You're welcome anytime.' He said in much the same way as a child who's been forced to say sorry would. He held out his hand and the consultant shook it.

'It's been a pleasure. I might have to take you up on that offer. I'm rather liking Britain.' He replied and smiled as the taller man bristled.

'No you won't.' Lisbon butted in to avoid further fights. 'You are needed back home.' She winked at the blond doctor, who winked back, then she dragged Jane away.

* * *

><p>Outside a large car waited for the team.<p>

'You didn't have to go to the expense of all this.' Lisbon said to the elder Holmes who waved away her concerns.

'Nonsense, this was no expense.' He replied.

'No. And I'm guessing the private plane we'll be using is no expense either.' Jane answered with a smirk. The rest of the team leader stared gob smacked.

'Private plane? What the hell are you on with?' Lisbon asked her consultant. Sherlock smirked.

'Oh, didn't you know? My _dearest _brother has his own private plane which he'll be lending you for the flight. If only so it's over there for picking up the big shot politicians over there for this meal he's having.' He said with a wave on nonchalance. Lisbon got into the car without another word. She really didn't have anything to say to that. John handed the red haired agent a note.

'Grace, if you feel anymore pain, hand this is at a pharmacy or any clinical place. They'll give you what you need. An for Gods sake get some rest. You look like you haven't slept the whole time you've been here.' The doctor said with a hint of a smile. Van Pelt nodded.

'Now John, remember to remain professional. She's a work colleague, not a girl from down the pub.' Sherlock chided. Rigsby's sheepish look managed to go unnoticed by most of the group as the attention was turned onto the doctor.

'Oh.' Van pelt said. 'You mean. You two aren't… well, you know.' She asked, getting floundered. John laughed.

'No, I'm not gay and we're not together.' He answered. Grace nodded, wondering how he was managing to take it so well.

'Scotland Yard seems to think the same thing. I'm used to the question, it's quite funny really.' John waved away. 'Besides, I guess living with this-' He gestured to Sherlock, '-isn't doing me any favours.' Sherlock smirked. The rest of the CBI agents got into the car and it pulled away down the drive to the airport.

* * *

><p>'Oh my God. I really thought they were gay.' Van Pelt said with an air of embarrassment. Jane chuckled.<p>

'Heh, well one of them is so you weren't far off.' He answered, closing his eyes and resting against the plane window.

'Oh, come on.' She complained. 'You can't leave it there! Which one? Does the other know? Oh, just answer me!' Jane chuckled but didn't reply. Grace looked to the team but they all stared back with blank faces. The red haired agent turned to face forward again and sighed in annoyance. She'd never be able to get to sleep now.

* * *

><p>'God, I thought I was the only one who had to put up with an annoying consultant.' John said with a laugh. Sherlock pouted.<p>

'I'm not annoying.' He replied. John scoffed but said nothing. The detective threw a pillow at him, which he swiftly dodged then hissed with pain as the scabs opened up again.

'John, be careful!' Sherlock yelled, leaping and pulling his flatmate in to check the wounds.

'You threw the cushion, you git!' John yelled back, smacking his hand away.

'Boys, it's three in the morning, could you please keep it down?' Mrs Hudson called from the bottom of the landing. The two men looked in the direction of the old woman then at each other, grinning wildly.

'I guess the rumours are about to get worse again.' John chuckled.

* * *

><p>Mycroft smiled to himself, on the outside of the situation it appeared that they were no better off then they had been before. There were still the two most wanted men in the world at large and both teams had suffered…damages. However; the British Government could see the inner workings of a brilliant plan forming together. One that would rid the world of the two evils forever. But that was for the future. Now he had a country to run.<p>

**THE END**

* * *

><p><strong>AN-<strong> And that really is the end. Of this story anyway. Does anyone what a sequel?  
>As always, please review.<p>

Thanks for reading!

B  
>x<p> 


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